The Scent of Apples
by yuffiehighwind
Summary: After Snow and Emma return from the Enchanted Forest and reunite with Henry, Regina seeks a distraction from losing him. Takes place after S2 Ep9 "Queen of Hearts." Jefferson/Regina.


_**Summary: **__After Snow and Emma return from the Enchanted Forest and reunite with Henry, Regina seeks a distraction from losing him. Takes place after S2 Ep9 "Queen of Hearts."_

_**Notes: **B__ased on episodes up through S2 Ep9. __This begins immediately after "Queen of Hearts" ends. Part four of my series "Some Kind of Madness." Originally posted on 12/16/12 on Archive of Our Own. Regina/Jefferson. Sexually Explicit. Dubious Consent._

**The Scent of Apples**

Regina waited before exiting Gold's shop. Waited until her son and Emma, her parents and their friends were down the street and out of sight. Henry and his family - his "true" family - were finally together, having overcome impossible odds to find each other, as Snow and Charming always had.

After months of fighting for the custody of her son - and for his heart - Emma Swan had won. It was almost too much for Regina to bear. She had held Henry as a baby - clothed him, fed him, nurtured his stubborn kindness. Raised him to be the boy who demanded she take a risk today and put her faith in him. Regina had leaned over the well and absorbed all of Gold's green energy not for Emma, but for Henry. Shaking, wracked with electric pain - it was no match for a breaking heart, but Henry would have no idea how much she had to resist crying out as the magic coursed through her body. She absorbed it all, with no idea if it would leave her still standing.

True Love's Kiss and a gentle breeze of magic was all it took to wake Charming. After Daniel, Regina's only love had been for her family - her parents, her son. She had burned every other bridge, leaving herself alone once again.

She could blame Emma or Rumplestiltskin or Snow or Cora, or finally take on all the blame herself. Give up and walk away. Crumble to pieces all over again. Patch herself back together and start over, as if such a thing were possible.

Her true identity revealed, Regina was now alienated from every Storybrooke resident. She had no friend left to confide in, and Sydney had been her only close one. But Sydney Glass had fled Storybrooke to forfeit his memories and become a new man. Even if he hadn't, Regina knew he couldn't ever forgive her for what she'd done to him.

Regina wandered to her car and unlocked the door. She sat in the driver's seat and willed herself not to cry. Now Henry had seen her changing - really proving it, by saving Emma and Snow - he would allow her back into his life, wouldn't he? Surely they would let her see him and share custody? The Charming's owed her that much. Or did they know that? She had torn Emma - their baby girl - away from them, after all. But taking Regina's son? Couldn't they see it was no different?

She put the key in the ignition and her mind sought distractions. Shopping, maybe. Shampoo. Make-up. A necklace. A bottle of wine.

A card or present for Henry.

She got out of her car, locked the door and let her feet carry her to the pharmacy.

All the other dwarves celebrated with Snow White at Granny's, but Dark Star Pharmacy remained open. The cashier, who Regina didn't recognize, narrowed her eyes as she passed. Tom Clark - Sneezy, wasn't it? Though he still thought he was Tom - was in the back serving a customer, possibly his last for the day. A tall man with a long dark coat and brown hair stood with his back to her, tapping his fingers on the counter.

Regina licked her lips and swallowed.

She walked down the beauty aisle - passing her favorite lipstick and blush, her shampoo, her apple body wash - glancing at the items she wanted or needed, eyes drawn to the man in the coat instead. She approached him and cleared her throat.

Jefferson turned around.

His look was not a friendly one.

Mr. Clark placed an orange pill bottle on the counter, then noticed Regina.

"Mayor Mills," he said, looking at her warily. "How can I help you?"

Jefferson let out one of his mirthless chuckles.

"_Former _Mayor, isn't it? Regina?"

Regina didn't say anything, just looked at the bottle. She watched Jefferson take it and slip it into his pocket. The man leaned down to sign for it, handing Mr. Clark some cash.

"I'm fine, Mr. Clark. I just came over to speak to Jefferson."

The pharmacist nodded, telling her, "Well, the store's remaining open but I'm closing down the pharmacy early. There's a...uh..."

"A party at Granny's," Regina said. "Yes, I'm well aware. It's not every day your friends return unscathed from another world."

Jefferson thanked Mr. Clark and headed for the door. Regina followed him.

"I didn't think you took those anymore."

"It's Xanax," he said. "Anxiety medication."

"Who could have written you a prescription for that, I wonder."

"Well, Regina, you know how good I was at forging signatures."

"The best, if I recall correctly."

Jefferson pushed open the doors and took a right, towards his car.

"Why are you following me?"

"I don't suppose I could have one?"

"You can have two, or three, or twenty, for all I care. Whatever it takes for you to leave me alone."

They reached his car and he removed his keys from one pocket and the pills from the other. He handed her the bottle and unlocked his door. Regina opened it and swallowed one pill dry. Jefferson watched her gaze into the middle distance, her face a picture of misery.

"What is it?"

"It's my son."

"Emma's son," he corrected her, opening his door. Regina reached over and shut it.

"How's Grace doing?" she asked. "Why isn't she with you?"

Jefferson flinched slightly. Her words had touched a nerve.

Not looking at her, he began, "Her parents..." He met her sympathetic eyes and continued, "We have, for the time being, an arrangement."

"What sort of arrangement?"

Jefferson leaned against the car. Regina handed him the Xanax bottle. He took it and put both hands in his coat pockets.

"We spend our days together. I drive her to school in the morning, pick her up in the afternoon. We share lunch and dinner. Spend the weekends together, up at the house. Talk and play. Eat and catch up on all the years I missed. But..."

"But?"

"Her parents...Her _other_ parents...They keep her home, nights. Her friends visit _their_ house. She has breakfast at their house. They have her check in with them, over her cell. They don't trust me, Regina. Say I'm not stable yet. I told them..."

Regina listened to all of this silently, with no sneer, with an understanding expression that stunned him. She had _never_ looked at him that way, as though she had walked miles in his shoes.

"I told them everything. I showed them this," he said, removing his scarf and exposing his scar, which he had avoided revealing whenever possible over the last 28 years, even when he was alone with her.

"I had a long talk with them without Grace. They looked me in the eyes and they could _see_ it."

Regina saw that same flicker of his illness. His intense stare and the way he carried himself, his body strained as though he would violently snap at any second.

"And I _let_ them see it. And I _understand_, but it..."

Jefferson looked at her expecting the same old gloating Regina, but she had on the pained face she'd showed him after losing Daniel a second time.

"I want her safe and happy, and I want her to trust me, but _Paige_ doesn't, and it _kills_ me."

Regina looked about to cry, and Jefferson wanted to shake her, snap her out of it. Yell at her to stop emotionally manipulating him with faux sympathy, and then he remembered Henry.

"But you get that, don't you?"

She nodded and sucked in a breath, then wiped her eyes.

"You're her blood," she said. "You made her, you raised her. You're her father. Her family."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Henry is _my_ family. Emma may have birthed him, but he's been my son for ten years and seeing him with Emma, with Snow...Watching him with a different mother...It's _torture_, Jefferson."

"I know. And now you know how _I_ feel."

He nudged her aside to open the car door, to leave her standing there yards from her son and suffering. Regina reached for him, for his collar.

"Have dinner with me tonight," she said, in a small voice.

Jefferson shot her a look he'd given her countless times over the years, when she'd show up on his doorstep, cider in hand, a mocking grin plastered on her face while she pleaded with her eyes for him to help her forget everything. One of anger mingled with pity, for her and himself. He shut his eyes and took a breath.

"Regina..."

"I'll cook for you. Whatever you want."

"I'm having dinner with Grace at my house."

"Then I'll make you dessert after you drop her off."

"I can't do that, Regina."

"A drink, then. Just one drink."

"I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Regina touched his cheek, confessing, "You're my only friend, Jefferson."

He pushed her hand away.

"We haven't been friends for a very, very long time."

Regina pressed her body close to his, her hands on his chest.

"I need someone who understands. Who knows what it's like to lose their child."

She reached for his face again, her fingertips brushing his ear. She rubbed it gently and he let her, looking conflicted. Jefferson shut his eyes and sighed.

"Regina..."

"Please, Jefferson."

Her body's warmth reminded him of their hateful fucks in Storybrooke and making love to her when they were only twenty. Regina brushed his jaw with her lips and he held her, hands on her waist, and he _almost_ kissed back. Almost, when a trio of Storybrooke citizens who had just parked their car walked by and he could see, out the corner of his eye, they were the nuns - the fairies. One he didn't recognize, one the girl Nova, and the third one...Blue.

Nova blushed and averted her eyes. The other fairy gave them a small smile as well, before recognizing Regina. Blue shot Jefferson a dirty look. Regina couldn't see her, but felt Jefferson tense and pull away. She turned her head to see Blue had locked eyes with him. The fairy looked confused, angry and betrayed.

The trio turned their backs and kept walking. They disappeared down the street and into Granny's Diner.

Regina remained pressed against him. She smelled like apples, which didn't surprise him. The real surprise was his contempt for Blue's judgmental glare. He'd done far worse things for his own gain in the past than piss off the fairies.

Before he could change his mind, Jefferson blurted, "Tonight." He let go of Regina and opened his car door. "But don't wait up."

Regina retreated to the sidewalk when he started the engine and drove away.

* * *

It was 1 a.m. and Regina had changed into purple yoga pants and a white T-shirt. Hair pulled back with a maroon headband, red lipstick faded and face wiped clean of make-up, she padded across the kitchen in sandals to finally open her bottle of Pinot Noir, resigned to drinking it all herself.

The doorbell rang and she answered it. As if he'd read her mind, Jefferson had also shed the finery and stood before her in a black T-shirt and jeans, coat open and his scar exposed. His eyes were sorrowful and his body a little unsteady. He was already drunk.

She half-expected him to kiss her, and the thought reminded her of Graham, the parallel unnerving. But unlike the lover she'd killed, Jefferson didn't push her to the wall or passionately paw at her shirt, begging her to help him feel something. Jefferson's eyes held an entirely different kind of sadness and his breath smelled like alcohol. He brushed past her and headed for the kitchen, not even bothering to remove his coat.

Regina shut the door and followed him. Jefferson had always felt everything strongly, heart still intact and beating in his chest. He didn't need Regina's touch to prove anything, except that some half-century old bonds quite possibly couldn't be broken.

Regina found him opening the bottle of wine.

"You got any glasses?" he asked.

She opened the cabinet and removed two. Setting them on the counter, she said, "I thought you weren't coming."

"So did I," he said, struggling with the cork. He looked her over. "I don't think I've ever seen you this way."

Regina took off the headband, looking embarrassed.

"Not ever," he said. "It's refreshing."

Successful, he put the corkscrew aside and poured two glasses.

"I've never seen you like this either," she said.

She scanned his tight jeans and T-shirt. His clothes had always shown off his fit, slender body, but never so starkly. Regina's eyes kept being drawn to his neck. Even before the scar, he'd always wrapped dark scarves around it.

"I'd like to propose a toast," he said, holding up his wine glass with exaggerated enthusiasm. "To parenthood."

They clinked their glasses.

"To parenthood," she murmured, swallowing nearly all of it. He chuckled when she poured herself some more.

"The bottle will be gone in no time at that rate. Good thing I brought another."

He took a pint of Jack Daniels out of his coat pocket and set it on the counter. Regina rolled her eyes.

"You're so predictable."

"Where's that dessert you promised me?" he asked, opening the refrigerator.

"I ate it."

She hadn't, and Jefferson pulled out a white cardboard box. Opening it, he found two large black and white cookies.

"Seriously? No apple turnovers?"

Regina's playful smirk turned deadly. She slammed her drink on the counter, spilling some, and walked over to snatch the box from him.

"That's not funny."

Regina grabbed the cookies and her glass, then headed for the living room. She swiped some napkins on her way out.

"If you think about it," he said, following her, "poisoning Henry broke the Curse, so we actually did your son a favor."

"Stop it, Jefferson."

He took off his coat and draped it over a chair, then sat beside her and unscrewed the whiskey bottle. Fuming, she scattered everything on the coffee table and turned on the television.

"Not that I ever intended to hurt your son," he said with the same light tone. "That was your doing. You must be a great cook."

"I said stop it."

He took a pull from the bottle, then offered her some. She didn't even shake her head.

"What you told me today about Henry? I sympathize. I really do."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I'm sorry."

He put his hand on her thigh and she pulled away. Glued her eyes to the screen, focusing on some kind of reality show.

"I share my daughter with another family," he said, soberly. "You share your son with Emma. Believe me, neither child wants to have to choose."

Jefferson draped an arm around her and Regina leaned into him.

"Your daughter loves you. She wants to be with you," she said. Her jealousy pained her, but she'd made him suffer so much, she owed him some comfort. "Once her other parents trust you, she'll be yours again. She always was. You're her world."

"Once she _knew_ me again," Jefferson said softly, icily.

_Please don't start_, she thought.

Jefferson swallowed his resentment and said, "The fact you raised Henry means he's as much yours as he is Emma's."

"Snow won't see it that way."

Jefferson took another swig of bourbon.

"Snow's a cunt."

Regina laughed. The delighted sound seemed to bubble up from the throat of a combination of Regina's - the Queen, the Mayor and the girl.

"Give me one of those cookies," he said, pointing. Regina opened the box and took them out - one for each of them.

They nibbled on the cookies and her smile faded. Jefferson still hadn't smiled at all. His brow furrowed at the program they were watching.

"What _is_ this?"

"Something about antiques, at a pawn shop in Las Vegas." She smirked. "I can only imagine what Gold would think of their transparently fake haggling."

Jefferson's two lives still tangled around each other in his head. He forgot himself for minutes at a time, even after decades of mastering the flip back and forth. So he said, with a sigh, without thinking, "I've never been to Las Vegas. I always meant to go, but never got around to it."

Regina either didn't notice his slip or ignored it. "We'll go someday," she said dreamily. "When the town line can be crossed."

Jefferson didn't bother to correct her by pointing out he would never go anywhere with her, nor would he want to.

"_If_ it can ever be crossed."

"Emma Swan will find a way," she said, and Jefferson thought _That's my line_, because he had been screaming inside his head and out loud to anyone who would listen that Emma was the Savior, for months. Voice low, Regina murmured, "Mothers always do."

She couldn't fathom a life without Henry, not anymore, but had spent years scared of bearing Leopold's children. (_And Jefferson's, and the Huntsman's...)_ It took decades to realize she was exactly like Cora, but it didn't take long to drill the fear into her that it was a possibility she someday would be.

"I never had a mother," Regina said bitterly. "Not really. I would _never_ do to Henry what Cora did to me."

But as soon as these words left her mouth, Regina recalled the horrible image of Henry suspended in air by those snaking vines. Felt them curl around her own waist, in her distant memories of Cora - restraining her, preventing her escape. Cora had never honored Regina's own feelings about what she wanted or who she married or anything else. Because her mother knew what was "best" for her, even though it was best to let Regina go. _To let Henry go._

Jefferson didn't know much about Regina's relationship with Henry. He only knew the look on Emma's face when she talked about her biological son, seeing his own pain reflected in her eyes. How much she yearned to be Henry's parent, nearly as much as Jefferson longed to be with Grace.

But he remembered Regina and the boy's namesake - her father. He used to bow respectfully to Henry at court, the man oblivious Jefferson was defiling his little girl at every opportunity. He could still see them affectionately embracing each other in Wonderland, relieved to be reunited, while he stared at them in horror and disbelief.

"Is Cora alive?" Jefferson asked.

Regina nodded. "And she intends to come to Storybrooke. I know she'll find a way. She almost made it through today. I almost killed Emma and Snow to prevent that from happening."

"I'm sure Henry's glad you didn't."

"He stopped me. Pleaded with me."

"Then you did the right thing, Regina."

"I thought she was dead, Jefferson. I was sure of it. I even sent an assassin to kill her."

More scraps of memory welled up in Jefferson's mind - of Cora's heart vault, and the Queen of Wonderland's vile rose bushes trimmed into that shape. White flowers painted red to match.

"To Wonderland," he whispered.

"Yes," Regina said, in a tone suggesting it was common knowledge. As if it weren't only Cora, Hook and herself who could possibly know.

Jefferson dug his fingernails into her shoulder and she winced. She turned her head to meet his cold stare.

"With my hat."

"With your hat."

The silence that followed grew painfully uncomfortable. Jefferson pulled away from her and ran his fingers through his hair, his head in his hands. He started to breathe heavily and she knew that look. It was the same way he tensed before exploding, before his mixed episodes of manic fury and heart sinking depression. Rage she'd flee from out the front door of his mansion, promising she'd never come back or demand sex again, before returning months later to find him just as broken as she'd left him. And his body just as welcoming.

"I couldn't..." she said. Regina figured he could fill in the rest.

"It was just before I cast the Curse," she added, by way of explanation, when he stood up and started to pace. He grabbed his coat, quickly put it on and left, slamming the front door behind him.

Regina sighed and pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees. She blankly watched the television, and after a few minutes she heard the door open and heavy footsteps on the hard wood. Jefferson stormed back into the living room and threw off his coat. He sat down on the couch, to her right, still fuming.

"I was with the March Hare and the Dormouse when the cloud came. We were having tea, for an un-birthday or something. A mad break from the madness. I looked up and knew it couldn't have been natural. It had to be magic. They shook with fear, but I was so relieved, Regina. You wouldn't believe how relieved I was, because it was pure, unadulterated magic, from our world, and I was far too gone inside my head to understand it could be a curse, fueled by hate. Maybe the Queen did it, I thought, but it had your touch, didn't it, Regina? Your _signature_."

"Jefferson..."

Regina's expression was one of pity when it should have been wracked with guilt. Jefferson wanted to shake her, or hit her, but kissed her instead.

It took her by surprise, how fiercely he captured her lips. He placed one palm on her cheek and pushed her down with the other, climbing on top of her before she could protest. Regina sucked in a breath when their lips parted. Their limbs tangled together, his right leg and her left threatening to fall off the couch. Jefferson wedged his left knee between her thighs and his hands tore at her T-shirt. He squeezed her breasts, eliciting gasps from Regina, and dove at her throat, her shoulder, her neck, to bite down hard. She moaned.

Jefferson shifted his body so he was between her spread legs, and thrust his hips, a growing erection bulging through his jeans. Regina tried to return his bites and received a hand to the throat instead. Her heart thudded in her chest as he squeezed his fingers. _This is it_, she thought. _This is how I go. _But Jefferson didn't press any harder; he kissed her again, shoving his tongue between her lips. Regina opened her mouth, breathing heavily through her nose.

Regina bucked her hips and began to rock her pelvis in rhythm with his own. They fucked with tongues and she couldn't help but grin when she felt his hand reach beneath him to feel between her thighs. They breathed together with mouths open but not touching while he clumsily reached into her pants to rub her clit. Regina spread her legs wider and her foot fell to the floor. Jefferson let out what sounded like a soft chuckle.

_More!_ she thought, but Jefferson withdrew his hand and pushed himself up. Kneeled and unbuckled his belt while Regina shimmied out of her yoga pants. He stood to undress; Regina sat up to slip off her clothes, dropping them in a pile by the couch. Both kept their shirts on.

Her pulse slowing, this brief pause left room for doubt, but Regina lay back down on the couch and shut her eyes. She took a shaky breath and opened her legs, concentrating on the heavy, warm body mounting her, shutting out all her regrets and sorrow.

Jefferson grasped his cock and positioned himself, then noticed the look of shame written all over Regina's features. If she'd open her eyes for even a second, she'd see his expression matched her own, but she wouldn't look at him. She turned her head when he entered her and started to thrust. Jefferson closed his eyes and tried to imagine someone - anyone - else, but the scent of Regina was all around him and she still smelled like apples.

Regina welcomed the discomfort of the couch, of his cock. His painfully hard thrusts. His grunts and the weight of him crushing her into the cushions. The smell of sweat and cologne and bourbon.

"Jefferson..."

"Shhh," he said, placing a hand over her mouth. He kept fucking her while she struggled for a foothold. Her left foot had fallen off the couch again, her calf dangling over the edge. Her neck was bent at an awkward, pinching angle against the armrest and none of this was pleasurable. _But I deserve it,_ Regina thought to herself,_ don't I?_ _After everything I've done._

Jefferson removed his hand and Regina wrapped her arms around him, clutching the fabric of his shirt. She ran her fingers through his hair, rubbed the back of his head, and moaned loudly with his hardest thrusts, his rhythm now becoming erratic. Jefferson thought he heard a _"Please"_ escape her lips and looked at her face. He caught her watching him, like she used to. Saw her guilt and pain and knew his own emotions must look just as bare and raw.

Jefferson shut his eyes and came.

He pulled out slowly and sat up, then picked a napkin up off the coffee table to wipe cum off his cock. Jefferson pulled on his jeans but Regina didn't move. She lay on the couch catching her breath, then pushed her legs together. She sat up and felt around on the floor for her panties, watching Jefferson take a swig of bourbon out of the corner of her eye. Not looking at him directly, Regina pulled her panties on. Combed her hair with her fingers and mimicked him, taking a sip of red wine.

"So," she said.

"So."

Regina expected Jefferson to bolt for the door, but he sat back down to her right instead. Picked up his half-eaten cookie still sitting on the coffee table and bit into it. Chocolate, vanilla, whiskey and wine couldn't cover the taste or smell of Regina's sweat and perfume now all over him. He listened to the faint voices coming from the television but it couldn't cover the sound of Regina's breathing. Jefferson sat back and shut his eyes, placing his left palm on Regina's bare thigh. She leaned her head on his shoulder and they resumed watching TV as though nothing had happened.

"This has to stop," he said, breaking the silence.

_It wasn't my idea_, Regina thought. She bit her tongue.

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I don't know what it is about you that makes me lose my head."

Regina smiled slightly and said nothing. After a few more quiet minutes, Jefferson turned to face her and rubbed her inner thigh with his right hand. She raised her head and shifted her body away from him, but froze at the sensation of his hand between her legs, where she was damp from his cum.

"You don't have to do that," she said.

"It's only fair."

He lightly ran his fingers along the waistband of her panties and Regina closed her eyes, his hot breath on her neck and body heat against her shoulder arousing her. He slipped his hand inside and his fingertips began to stroke her clit. His motions gradually took on a faster rhythm and Regina dug her nails into the couch cushions. She grasped her own breasts with one hand, through her shirt, and squeezed.

"Come for me," he whispered. She whimpered and bit her lip. Threw her head back and thrust into his palm, spreading her legs. He slowed his pace and she could have killed him for that, but then he reached further down to insert two fingers inside her sore pussy. The heel of his palm rubbed against her clit as he fingered her - gently at first and then harder. He repeated his earlier request more firmly, like a command. _"Come for me."_ The same way she used to say it to him. He hoarsely repeated this in her ear as he brought her closer and closer to orgasm.

Regina gasped and climaxed.

He stopped rubbing when she stopped trembling.

Jefferson kissed the side of her face and inhaled the scent of her. He withdrew his hand from her panties and placed it on her abdomen, under her shirt. She stopped rubbing her breasts to place her hand over his.

Heartbeat slowing, she caught her breath and asked, "Why do I keep doing this to you?"

"Why do you do anything, Regina?"

_I just want to be happy_, she thought.

Regina disentangled herself from him and stood up.

"I'll be right back."

She took her yoga pants with her and headed for the upstairs bathroom.

Regina removed her soiled panties and dropped them on the floor. She relieved herself, then cleaned between her legs with a wet washcloth. Washed her hands, then put on a fresh set of clothes. She considered what to say to Jefferson, if he was still there, and how to say it. She brushed her hair and put on a new headband, then steeled herself for the walk back downstairs.

She found Jefferson in the kitchen taking shots.

"Cleaned yourself up, I see."

"I thought you'd be gone."

"I'm staying over. I can't drive like this."

"I'll prepare the guest room," she said. "Unless you want the couch."

"Or your bed," he said, smirking. Regina, eyebrow raised, approached the counter and took the second, empty shot glass he had put out for her. He filled it.

Regina knocked back the shot and thought of Graham. Of falling asleep beside him and finding him gone in the morning. Sometimes he'd exit through the window and shimmy down a drainpipe. She thought of similar nights beside Jefferson before Henry was born, and his resigned sighs when he got up to make coffee, as a courtesy.

Back in the Enchanted Forest, Jefferson almost always left before dawn, but sometimes she felt him kiss her awake before tossing his magic hat and disappearing, moments before her servants entered with the rising sun to prepare her for the day. Regina marveled every time at that purple and black vortex it created, knowing someday it would be hers, once she figured out how to steal it.

"I'm not very good at sharing," she said.

"No surprise there."

She gestured for him to pour her another shot.

"Come on, let's watch TV," he said, leading her back into the living room.

They sat on the couch not touching. The bottles of wine and liquor quickly dwindled to nothing and the pair passed out where they sat, the television flickering through the night and into the next day.

* * *

A morning talk show woke Regina, her mouth dry and temple hurting. Jefferson sat beside her, his head thrown back, arms crossed, and mouth hanging open. He snored softly.

Regina surveyed the scene. Crumbs and empty bottles. A pounding headache. She staggered into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water, then retrieved aspirin from her medicine cabinet. Regina rarely had a hangover, and only ever after nights in Storybrooke, with Jefferson.

She returned to the couch to nudge him with her foot. He didn't stir, so she kicked harder.

"Wake up. I'm making coffee."

"What the fuck?" Jefferson squinted up at her. "Oh, God," he groaned. "_Please_ tell me we didn't fuck."

"It's a distinct possibility."

After gaining his bearings, Jefferson followed her into the kitchen, where she was preparing the coffee maker.

"This doesn't mean anything," he said.

She hesitated before replying, "I know."

He filled a glass of water and drank it thirstily, then saw the time on the microwave.

"Shit, I'm supposed to pick up Grace."

"Calm down. It's a Sunday."

"We have brunch on Sundays."

He left the room, seeking his coat. He found his cell phone and Regina heard him making a phone call. She strained to listen and caught snatches of his side of the conversation. Fervent apologies and "I love you's." Regina watched the coffee maker and willed it to brew faster, trying not to think of her son.

Jefferson re-entered the kitchen, pulling on his coat.

"I need to get going."

Regina nodded, not looking at him.

"Goodbye, Regina," he said, exiting.

He stopped and turned. He had seen her dejected look.

"Are you okay?"

She shook her head. He had only asked because she looked like the 20-year-old girl, not the Queen. The mother, not the Mayor.

"Look, I can't stay. Grace is waiting for me."

Regina opened her mouth slightly, as if to respond.

"You'll see Henry again," he said, before she could say anything. "Emma will see to that. David will, even if Snow doesn't."

Regina looked up at him and almost smiled. She still looked conflicted.

"Will I see you?" she asked.

Jefferson shook his head, with an expression that said _Why would I?_

"You're toxic, Regina," he said, and she flinched at the word. "For me. I can't have that in my life now, with Grace."

Regina looked hurt, forgetting her role in his family's story was the villain. She touched his chest and he backed away.

"I thought you understood."

"I want to change," she said. "I promised Henry I would."

"I know. So if you care about me and my daughter, you'll leave us alone."

He felt around his pockets for his car keys and pulled them out.

"Jefferson..."

"Don't," he said, when she reached for his cheek.

She watched him turn and leave. Watched him get into his car, out the window, and drive away.

Regina went upstairs to wash off the smell of him with her apple scented soap.

* * *

Regina drank her coffee, then cleaned up the living room. She sprayed a stain on the couch with remover and scrubbed it clean, grimacing at her hazy memories of the previous night. She sat by the phone, eating toast and watching TV while waiting for Henry to call. Regina waited. And waited.

She cleaned the kitchen next, rinsing out the wine and whiskey bottles. As she did so, she heard it - that telltale beep from her cell phone. Excited, she ran into the living room to retrieve it, but her heart sank when she saw it was just an email - some advertisement.

Regina watched more TV, considering what to prepare for dinner. Finally she went upstairs to apply her make-up. With time to kill, she made it flawless, its finishing touch her blood-red lipstick. She buttoned up a smart silk blouse. Pulled on black slacks and heels and one of her designer jackets. Regina put on her finest bracelets, necklaces and earrings. She transformed herself into a woman so very different than the one in the tank top and baggy jeans, and felt more like herself.

There was another beep from her phone and Regina delayed checking it, expecting another pointless email that wasn't from her son. She gave in and picked up the phone, and there it was, at last - a text from Henry, asking how she was and saying he would visit her tomorrow. Regina smiled. Covered her mouth and tried not to cry in sadness and joy all at once. Her baby, her Henry! Jefferson had been right, Henry would remain in her life, and Emma would let him.


End file.
